Sunday, April 28, 2013

Zen 1, 2 ,3...

Sunday Sunday... so good to me.

Why is it we adore weekends so much?  After all, I haven't "worked" now for two years, there's been plenty to occupy my time, yet... I love the weekend.

It's a very bright sunny day here on Prince Edward Island.  About five degrees Celcious, quiet, cats fed, sitting here doing a Blog update.

As I often do, its days like this that cause me to think back.  To where I was, and how I got here, and what it means to me to Be Here.

First of course, before I do that, I have to feed the felines, give everyone a pet or two behind the ears for Abby, a full length rub for Willy, and under the chin for Phoenix.  Put the coffee pot on, not so much because I love coffee, but I know when Brenda wakes up, we love to share that experience.

Took a couple of books up last night at random.  I read a lot, like it.  This handful included a volume from my collection of WW 2 history, Bill Brysons, "In a Sunburned Country" and a very old classic, dating back to 1974 (when I got my BMW R60/5) by Robert Persig... yes, it's "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance"  

This morning after the aforementioned felines ware sated, I picked up the Persig novel.  If you've ever read this book, you know it has little to do with actual bike mechanics, and I'm not certain much to do with Zen either.  More importantly, if you don't get too deep into the philosophy, you can imagine the ride.  That is if you ride.

Me, I've been in a lot of places in my life.  From the early days of venturing to the far side of Edmonton, to the Rockies, Baja, and the old World.  I can still remember rides smelling the newly planted fields, salt water, and desert stillness.  Like life itself, the road can be rocky, smooth, up and down but never, ever boring.  Even if you were traveling the prairies, you're bound to notice something out there.

I've been a machinist first class, a financial guy, owner of motorcycle shops, a mechanic, a Dad, a lover and even a fighter.  The odd time I've even sat at the rest stop, resting of course.  But not for long.  Life moves along regardless of what you or I do about it.  Our time is limited and you can choose to be a passenger, sitting in the back seat of the car, watching it go by, maybe even asleep, or you can choose to be the rider.


Turn signal switch on the left, throttle on the right, fuel between your legs. 

There is really no right or wrong to it all.  We do the best we can with what we have to work with.  Every year, is a new opportunity to do that thing you've wanted to do.  Maybe it's to write that great Cdn novel, maybe restore that old Mustang.  Who knows, maybe you'll do that adventure you've always wanted, the African Safari or a visit to the zoo. 

Each day that you have a pulse, its a chance to take, risk something, climb a little higher, dream a little longer, smell the roses while drinking that cup of joe...

Zen... who cares about zen?

Life... now that's something I care a lot about... 

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